


caught up

by solyn



Series: you're the combination of everything i never had [1]
Category: Choices: Ride or Die, Choices: Stories You Play
Genre: Boys Kissing, Clothes Sharing, M/M, and also there are boys kissing, colt thinks logan is straight, colt's daddy issues make a minor reappearance, logan is not straight, rated t for swearing AGAIN, yes colt wears an mcr shirt to bed every night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 08:25:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17977796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solyn/pseuds/solyn
Summary: Colt's leather jacket is very multipurpose. Logan thinks it might just be free real estate.





	caught up

**Author's Note:**

> vanilee made an edit and so here i am, instead of doing my grocery shopping. not beta'd, all mistakes are on me but hey on the plus side i'm single-handedly popularising the colt/logan tag on ao3, right?

The heist of four super cars had been pulled off as well as any heist could have been. One of the cars- the one Ellie had been driving- had a few deep gouges in the side, but that was hardly their problem. They could take the cars, or not at all. A small, petty part of Colt’s brain remarked that if they’d wanted the cars in pristine condition, they should have given more specific instructions. Supported by one of Ximena’s arms around his waist and one of Toby’s crutches from the Dumpling-gate incident two years ago, his father hobbled out of his office to inspect the cars.

 

Colt felt his stomach twist. He and his father didn’t have a fantastic relationship, but it was still strange to see a man he’d used to see as a god look so underwhelmingly human. Teppei’s skin was pale and sickly, and he radiated an aura of exhaustion as Ximena all but dragged him closer to the cars. He blinked, slowly, and then nodded.

 

“Well done,” he said, and Colt’s spirits lifted, before he tracked his line of sight to Logan, and his shoulders sunk, “you’ll have to meet with the Brotherhood’s representative to arrange the handover. I’ll give you his details.” Logan nodded, once. Next to him, Mona stood with her legs planted apart, weight loosely resting on one foot, arms crossed over her chest. Ellie stood close to her side, hugging herself and worrying her lower lip. Toby rocked on his heels between Ellie and Colt, hands clasped loosely behind his back and eyes elsewhere.

 

“If he goes, I go,” Teppei had started to turn away with Ximena’s help, but he paused as he heard Colt’s voice. Slowly, he turned back around, appraising his son with that indifferent look that Colt  _ loathed _ . For once in his life, he wished that his father would show a modicum of emotion when it came to him. He was happy here, playing house with virtual strangers, but Colt had been harshly reminded he had no place among these people.

 

“Colt,” he began, clearly looking for the best way to needle him into changing his mind. Colt shoved off the hood of his father’s car, shucking his leather jacket back into place around his shoulders, and stomping toward Logan’s shitty yellow car.

 

“Nah,” he said, “non-negotiable, old man.” He slammed his shoulder against Logan’s as he passed, sending Logan stumbling a good few paces. “Let’s move.” Before anyone could say another word, he wrenched open the passenger side door to Logan’s Devore GT, and sealed himself inside it. Through the tinted windshield, he could see Toby and Ellie watching him with concern, while Mona turned toward her own car, and Logan gave Teppei a bewildered look for guidance.

 

Colt sunk lower into the seat, bracing a boot against the dashboard and tucking his chin to his chest. The leather of the motor-style collar tickled his cheeks, and he pretended that it drowned out the muffled speech from outside the car. He closed his eyes, pursed his lips. Rage roiled in his gut, hard enough for him to grit and grind his teeth as he clutched at the sides of his jacket, trying to fight the sudden urge to just  _ pummel _ Logan’s dashboard with his steel-toe clad foot.

 

A door opened next to him, and his eyes slid across to watch Logan clamber into the car next to him. He didn’t say anything, jaw clenched, as he pulled the door shut and turned the engine over. Colt used the foot on the dashboard to push himself upright, and strap himself in. He re-folded his arms across his chest as Logan started to back the car out of the garage.

 

“You’ll want a jacket.”

 

“We’ll only be there a few minutes, I’m sure I can handle it.” Colt rolled his eyes, but he didn’t respond to that. Instead, he braced a leg against the dash again, draping his arms over his knee and resting his cheek on his forearms. He glowered at the window as if the darkened glass held the answer to all his problems. Logan was silent as the roar of the engine enveloped them. Colt didn’t turn to look at him, but he could feel the tell-tale prickle along his nape of Logan’s eyes on him.

 

“You don’t have any music or anything?” Colt groused in the uncomfortable silence.

 

“You wouldn’t like anything I have to play anyway,” Logan snapped back, “you probably still cry yourself to sleep over My Chemical Romance songs.”

 

“Well you look like you listen to Eminem, so really, what’s worse?” Colt leaned across with nimble fingers, and snatched the aux cord before Logan’s hand got anywhere near the centre console. Colt smirked at him as Logan glared back, colour rising in his cheeks. He flicked his eyes back to the road as Colt dug his phone from his pocket, configuring the auxiliary input.

 

“I  _ don’t _ listen to Eminem.”

 

“Whatever you say, Slim Shady,” the radio confirmed the connection, and Colt relaxed back into the seat, scrolling through his playlist, before finally deciding on a song. Familiar music flooded the car’s interior, and Colt released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, sticking both feet against the dash and sinking down a little, arms draped loosely over his knees.

 

_ I’m so caught up in the shit that the world throws at me… _

 

“Okay, so it’s not MCR,” Logan said, smirking as Colt opened one eye to glower at him.

 

“Just so we’re clear, MCR  _ was _ revolutionary and still bangs hard, but unlike  _ some people _ I’m not one dimensional.” Logan snorted, but he didn’t make a rebuff.

 

_ Why do you always do the same things? _

 

“This is… kind of a good song,” Logan said. Colt just grunted his response.

 

“Shut up.”

 

_ I want to be free to do what I want to like I used to… _

 

Logan did. They drove with only the music between them, with Logan’s occasional snarky comment about how ‘diverse’ Colt’s taste in music was, and Colt’s standard snappish reply. They arrived at the rendezvous point with minutes to spare. Logan turned the engine off, but left the battery running so that the music could continue to play.

 

Colt’s head was tipped back against the back of the seat, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He could feel Logan watching him, the sensation prickling along his neck and up his cheek. He heard Logan shift, as if to turn to face him, and suddenly the air felt stifling. Colt wrenched his phone from the aux cord, shoved the door open and stumbled out into the cool night air.

 

He inhaled deeply as he heard Logan’s door open and shut behind him. The bitterness of the wind chill stung at his chest where his leather jacket was blown open. It bit at his cheeks, but the pain was comforting, even as it rattled deep into his chest and pricked at his lungs. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, jamming both hands into his pockets.

 

“Colt-”

 

“Shut up. They’ll be here soon enough.” His eyes met Logan’s over the top of the car. Logan looked like he wanted to protest, but after a few seconds, the fight drained from him and his shoulders sagged. He sighed, but nodded, moving to the front of the car to rest against the hood. Colt took a step behind the open door on his side of the Devore GT, using it as a partial windblocker, with the roof pressing into his back.

 

They were, in fact, not there soon enough. A minute ticked into five, ticked into ten. Colt scrolled aimlessly through his Instagram feed, trying to ignore the way that Logan’s shoulders shook feebly every few seconds, and then stopped, his whole body becoming stiff. He was hunched against the wind, hands clutching his own biceps.

 

“Told you. Should have brought a jacket,” he said, keeping his tone casual and indifferent. Logan turned his head to glare at him.

 

“I’m not cold.” Colt’s eyes flicked down to his biceps where, even in the dark, the raised flesh was obvious. Logan twisted his torso away from him, sulky pout on his lips.

 

“Sure,” Colt said flatly, “whatever you say.” At that moment, the reflection of headlights bounced off the hillside just below them. Logan straightened up, and Colt turned his attention to track the faint glow as it grew more and more prominent, until a car rolled to a stop next to Logan’s. A window rolled down, and a man wearing shades in the middle of the night gave them a crooked smile.

 

“You must be the protege,” he said to Logan, and then his eyes flicked to Colt, leaning on the roof of the Devore, “and you must be the son. Heard you mopped up at that street race.” Colt shrugged, and the man laughed, before Logan stepped in front of him.

 

“We got the cars,” he said, “four, like you requested. How do you want to do this?”

 

Colt tuned out for the rest of the conversation. Every now and again, the sunglasses-man would lean around Logan to try and get a better look at Colt, but every time Logan would side-step and block him from view again. At this point, Colt was numb to any attempt to cut him out of the family business. His father had made it clear to Colt that he didn’t trust him with this, so he suppose it made sense that he’d transferred that warning to Logan. It was easier to force himself to feel numb than it was to get furious about it. He turned his attention out into the night, watching the lights of the city blink on below.

 

The sound of an engine dragged him out of his thoughts, and he watched Logan fold his arms tightly as the car reversed and peeled away back down the hill. Colt stood and waited for a second, and then another. Logan didn’t move, shoulders hunched. It was then that Colt realized he was shivering violently, and the faint clicking he could hear was Logan’s teeth chattering.

 

“Jesus Christ, Logan,” he said, rounding the Devore to place a hand on Logan’s arm. He jerked away from his touch, hunching his shoulders even more. He shook like a leaf in the wind as Colt’s scowl deepened.

 

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” he insisted, but he couldn’t make his teeth stop chattering long enough to make it convincing. Colt rolled his eyes and took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest as he fought the concern away from his features. His fingers brushed the leather seam of his inner elbow, and he paused. He thought about it, and then he sighed. One shoulder at a time, Logan watching his every move, Colt shrugged out of his jacket.

  
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered.

 

“Wha-” Logan yelped in surprise as Colt reached forward and fisted a handful of Logan’s short, yanking him toward him. Logan stumbled, almost falling directly into Colt as he slipped behind him, forcing him one arm at a time into his jacket.

 

Logan turned to face him, eyes wide. Colt self-consciously crossed his arms, definitely feeling the chill in his ratty gray t-shirt. His jacket must have been a bit too small on Logan- he was broader in the shoulders, and had longer arms- but he heard no complaints. Logan’s mouth was hanging open, his eyes blown wide, with a flush crawling all the way down his neck.

 

“You’ll catch flies,” Colt snapped, but Logan didn’t respond. His fingers slowly lifted to tug the jacket around him more securely, fingers trailing over the lapels, rubbing the leather between his thumb and index finger. He bit his lip, and Colt felt his own cheeks heat, before he glanced away, turning his gaze back toward the city.

 

“Now you’re going to freeze,” Logan said, so quietly and so fondly that it made Colt jumped. He turned back, glowering at Logan, to find him staring as if he’d hung the stars in the sky. There was no way for Logan to know what that look did to him. Logan had the singular brain cell that operated two days of every week for maybe three hours max that all straight men were born with, and no straight man could ever comprehend the concept of Colt being decidedly not-straight.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Colt said again, turning away from him abruptly. He dragged his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, stomping around to his side of the car. “I’m sure I’ll survive with your shitty Minionmobile’s central heating but you look at risk of straight up catching pneumonia and God forbid I have to deal with the emotional trauma of my father replacing me with some other idiot  _ again _ .”

 

“You like me,” Logan’s smile broadened, like a dumb puppy, “you care.”

 

“ _ Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh _ ,” said Colt, slumping dramatically into the seat and slamming the car door. Logan slipped into the driver’s seat next to him, as Colt made a point of not looking at him. Instead, he pulled up the group chat with his friends from the boarding school Teppei had sentenced him to and told them he was about to go absolutely apeshit and probably kill a man. Logan did not start the car. Colt was acutely aware that Logan was staring at him. He gave an irritated sigh.

 

“ _ What _ ?” He turned toward Logan, who was staring at him with something Colt couldn’t quite place behind his eyes. Logan’s eyes traced the motion of Colt’s lips, and in the split second before that registered, he was closing the distance between them, over the centre console.

 

His lips were chapped and the angle was awkward, Logan’s nose pressed uncomfortably against his cheek as Colt’s eyes widened in surprise. He felt frozen in shock, and Logan pulled away abruptly, averting his eyes as his tongue wet his lower lip. His face was furiously red as his fingers pushed his thick, brown hair back from his face.

 

“Shit,” he said, “shit, Colt, I’m sorry, I just- your jacket, I really…. I really wanted to-”

 

“Shut up,” Colt breathed, and then he was reaching out, fumbling fingers fisting in his jacket as he yanked Logan back to him. Logan came willingly, and their lips met again, more surely this time as Colt tilted his head and pressed into him. His eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of Logan’s mouth sliding against his own. Logan made a noise against his mouth, and seconds later Colt felt his hand lift to settle around the nape of his neck, tugging him closer.

 

Colt’s neck and shoulders ached from twisting to kiss him, but he refused to stop. Kissing Logan invaded his thoughts regularly, and somehow this felt like another dream; like if he dared to breathe everything would be back to normal. He wanted to savour it for as long as he could, to pretend like this is how things really were, a world where he could drag Logan closer by the lapels of his own jacket, where Logan’s thumb stroked possessively over the nape of his neck, the other resting against his hip.

 

Logan pulled back. His eyes were blown wide, lips kiss-swollen as they stretched into a grin. Colt ran his tongue along his own lower lip, relaxing his grip on the jacket as he eyed Logan warily. His hand didn’t move from the back of Colt’s neck. He stroked his thumb against his nape again, and a shiver trailed directly down Colt’s spine. Logan laughed, breathless, reverent.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, and Colt smacked his chest with both hands.

 

“Shut up,” he said, but his face stretched into a grin.

 

“Why didn’t we do this before?”

 

“Because you’re an idiot?”

 

“ _ I’m _ an idiot? I’ve been making eyes at you ever since you kicked my ass in that street race. I don’t know how much more obvious I could have been.” Colt laughed, tugged at his jacket again. This time, it was hard enough to half-fall over the centre console.

 

“That was a pretty good kind of obvious,” he said, and Logan laughed, leaning in to kiss him again, and again; quick, chasing kisses as Colt leaned further out of reach while pulling him forward, until he finally got the idea and climbed over the centre, and into Colt’s lap. His head knocked the ceiling and he flinched, leaning down until his nose was nestled close to Colt’s, eyelashes brushing his cheek as he blinked.

 

“Hello,” he whispered, as if there were someone around to hear them. Colt couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled in his throat as he tilted his head and brushed his lips over Logan’s jaw. His free hand came up to cup Colt’s cheek, fingers spreading over his jaw and then pushing back to run through his cropped, black hair. He shuddered a little, biting his lower lip.

 

“What’s that for?”

 

“I’m cold,” Colt grinned, “you stole my fucking jacket.”

 

“If memory serves,  _ you  _ gave it to me.”

 

“And you won’t turn your central heating on,” Colt brushed their lips together, hands still tugging at his jacket. Logan settled forward some more, pulling Colt’s face to his own to kiss him again. It was slower this time, more careful. Logan’s thumb traced the shape of his cheekbone, and Colt exhaled against him, one hand dropping to rest at his hip.

 

“I think this is a better way to keep warm,” Logan whispered, lips brushing Colt’s own with every word. Colt laughed, and leaned in to kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on my choices sideblog @[greensconnor](https://greensconnor.tumblr.com/)! come say hi and let me know what you thought!  
> the song colt & logan are listening to in the car & the 'theme' for this fic if you will is [caught up by chapel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nAAroF3WUoM)


End file.
